If there was one thing that was consistent about this weekend it would be the rain. It started sometime early Saturday morning and continued on into Sunday. As a matter of fact, it changed over to snow when I convinced myself I should just go home.

I knew the weather was going to be miserable but even though it was going to rain I knew that the area wouldn’t be blown out. With the gates controlling the flow it wasn’t going to matter how much rain we got. Unfortunately, the October rains gave an estimated 2 trillion extra gallons to Lake Superior. All that water has to go somewhere so the gates were wide open. The concrete berm I normally stand on to fish certain runs was completely under water. Not that it mattered, trying to wade to it was completely out of the question. I got spun around more than once by the increased flow and not so sure footing.

Knowing all this I still went out. I have yet to catch a Steelhead here and I definitely won’t catch one sitting in my hotel room watching the Wolverines get their ass handed to them. I figure one of these days my timing will be perfect and I’ll catch one. As it turns out it would not be this weekend. I could see fish rolling around and I saw a few swim by me both they were all salmon. I figured they were either Atlantics or small Chinook. Around noon I managed to hook one as I was stripping line in for my next cast. Based on the color I thought it was a small Atlantic. I was wrong.

Wasn’t expecting a coho but there she was. Nothing like the ones I caught in Alaska but it was still better than nothing. After I released I waded back to shore to let my legs thaw out for a bit. While I was there I talked to a local angler who was also taking a break and smoking a “Recreational Cigarette”. He told me that the Steelhead have been slow but there were a lot of salmon in the area. He had also caught a couple of Coho and an Atlantic. He also told me that the gates will be turned down. He told me that he expects the fishing to be good for a few days after that, even if gets any colder. I doubt I’ll drive back up though. I may stick to the Alley or some west side rivers. I like fishing this area but those 6 hours drives get old after awhile. After a 20 minute break I waded back in and resumed fishing. I was joined by another fishermen who set up downstream from me. He was chucking a pink spoon and I watched him catch one Steelhead and about half a dozen salmon. The fish are in but they were in a pool that I couldn’t reach. If the levels were down a couple of feet I could. Then again the fish might not be in that spot as well. After about 6 hours of 40 degree water and rain I packed it in. A warm meal sounded better than subjecting myself to any more abuse. Besides, I still had tomorrow morning to try again.

Well I tried again Sunday morning. I should have known something was up when I arrived and I was the only vehicle in the parking lot. I tired for a couple of hours but when it started snowing I decided to give up. I was going to have a long drive home and I wanted to get ahead of the storm that was expected to arrive later that night.

I did manage to catch one fish, lost a couple of flies and I was able to stay dry for most of the weekend. One of these years I’ll catch it just right. I’m not going to hold my breath until then though.

Months ago this day seemed so far away and now it was here. My last day of fishing and it would turn out to be our best yet. Nothing fancy, no chasing a specific species, just a day where it was all about numbers.

First stop – The Pit Stop Hole.

This is the half way point between the lodge and the tidal area. Usually the boats will make a quick stop to top off the gas tanks and let the guests have a bathroom break. John, Phil and I lined up and started casting. First cast and all 3 of us hooked into a fish. The Pinks were in thick and they were going to be our bread and butter fish all day. For the next 2 hours we kept at it. John and Phil were pretty much catching fish on every other cast. I on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well. What I lacked in numbers I made up for in variety. They were catching nothing but Pinks, I was catching everything else.

I ended up with 2 “Jack” Kings from this spot along with a pair of male Chum and a pair of Pinks. Tim was keeping track and I think we landed 33 in total before we moved, 100 yards to another sand bar. We lined up once again but this time I set up on the downstream point where the current formed an eddy and pool. 4 straight casts, 4 Pinks hooked and landed. After the 4th fish I moved out and let John move down where he proceeded to do the same thing. Phil was casting out into the main river but was unable to reach the fish. He moved down to where John was and I went back to the boat to break out my Spey rod. I figured it was my last day so from here on in it was “Swing Flies or Die”. I could easily swing a fly through the seam where the fish were holding and on my first cast I hooked into another Silver Salmon.

Once we landed him Tim told me all I needed was a Sockeye to complete a Grand Slam on a fly. Problem was the nearest Sockeye were 40 miles upstream. That wasn’t gonna happen and I really didn’t mind. I was having fun right where I was at. I landed a few more Pinks and John relinquished the point to Phil so he could get in on the action. We didn’t stay here long since it was a small area and hard to fish 3 people. No matter. There were plenty of other places for us to fish. Our main concern was staying dry. The remnants of a typhoon was making it’s way through Bristol Bay and the leading edge of an all day rain was just reaching us. It wasn’t a downpour, just an all day rain. The kind that soaks through the piece of crap raincoat I was wearing. I dealt with it as we bounced around form hole to hole. At our last stop I could see it was mostly Pinks so I put away my Spey rod and broke out the one rod I hadn’t used all week, my 6wt Redington Prospector Switch Rod. As a matter of fact I had yet to catch a fish on this rod. I never liked the line I had on it so I didn’t use it much. The new SA Spey Lite line breathed new life into this rod and it casts like a dream. I ended up landing 7 pinks on it and Tim asked if he could try it out before we were done for the day. After I landed my 30th fish for the day I traded him my rod for the net, and told him to have at it. Even though we still had about an hour left I told him I was done, cast away and I’ll land any fish. He was very appreciative and really liked the way the rod and line performed. So much so that he said when he got the chance he was going to be ordering a bunch of the SA Spey lite lines in different weights. Even John and Phil got in on it and were planning on ordering lines for their switch rods. Once the emphasis was more on the lines instead of the fish we started to pack it in. It had been raining for the last 4 hours and we had a 20 mile boat ride back to camp. Dry clothes and a warm meal were sounding better than catching anymore fish. Besides, between the three of us we landed well over 100 today. This was the kind of day I was hoping for and fortunately I got it. Just wish I could have experienced it with my Dad and Susan.

I really had no idea what the plan was for today, maybe catch some salmon? One thing I knew for sure was that I was going to wear my Mad Viking Tackle Co. hat to get some picks for my friend’s company. The other thing was wear a t-shirt I was given in the hopes of winning a free one. The Stick It Vinyls runs a monthly contest for the person who can post a pic on Facebook showing the farthest distance from their office in Michigan. Hopefully it wouldn’t rain today and I would be able to accomplish that. We went downstream again but this time we were a lot closer to the lodge than yesterday.

I planned on using my Spey rod today and swing flies. Didn’t have much of a choice since I broke two other rods. The Scott Flex would still be coming along but my plan was Swing or Die today. We set up at our first spot for the day and pretty much stayed their. We had no reason to leave, it was full of Pinks and Chum and they were very grabby. Even managed to land a couple of Silvers as well. Actually the fish were so thick in this spot I was pretty much catching them at will. Even when I wasn’t trying I was hooking fish. Bring in my line to make another cast, hook fish. Set anchor for my next Spey cast, hook fish. Drag fly through water with lunch in my hand, hook fish. Release fish from net after removing hook, hook fish. At one point I got bored spey casting so I grabbed my Scott Flex and took a position on shore, after I made a lot of noise, overlooking the pool. I spent then next hour casting to Pinks and watched them do all kinds of Pink things. I watched them chase my fly, bump it, grab it and let go, follow it for 20 feet only to refuse it at the end, ignore it and even attack it like their life depended on it.

It was a lot of fun but it had to end. Eventually the fish figured out that anything pink would cause them a lot of stress. We moved on to another spot for more of the same until it was time to head back to the lodge. During our run to the next spot I got to hear one of Tim’s now famous quotes after we saw a Bald Eagle and an Osprey on the same sand bar.

“Bald Eagles and Ospreys are the same bird, one just has a better publicist”.

We beached the boat at this spot and when I jumped out I began to have second thoughts about fishing here.

As a point of reference that reel is about 6 inches in diameter. It still amazes me that I am sharing all of this with so many bears.

Not to much longer after that we headed back to the lodge. I think the guide wanted to get back early since we were late the previous night. Jessie was happy to see us back on time as well.

A few days before Memorial Day weekend a friend of mine contacted me to tell me the Steelhead had just started moving into the St. Mary’s Rapid’s. Of course he wanted me to come up then but family obligations prevented that. He told me they should still be around well into June so I had time. That would work because I was invited to a wedding at Carp Lake, MI on June 8th so I figured I could make the hour drive the next day while everyone else was sleeping off hangovers and doing the tourist thing at Mackinac City.

The next morning I was headed north at 4:30 am. As expected the roads were empty, there wasn’t even any traffic on either of the bridges and I think I woke up the customs guard in Canada. A little after 6:00 am I was suiting up and heading to the river. As I drove over the bridge I could see that the water level was down and there was only one other person fishing. So far so good. I waded across and noticed the shadows of a few fish taking off in front of me. I was feeling very optimistic at first but I soon realized that all of the shadows I was seeing were suckers, hundred’s of them. My heart sank but I gave it my best shot anyways. I swung flies for the next few hours without even so much as a bump. At one point I though I had a take but when I brought the fly in I could see a small scale on the hook and figured I just scraped a sucker. Around 10:00 am I put away the streamers and broke out one of my burnt orange carp flies. By now there were about a dozen nymphers and pinners out drifting beads and egg flies. I did see one nympher catch a bright skipper on an egg fly so I figured what the hell. About 20 minutes later I saw a bow start in my line and I figured I was snagged. I pulled in the line and lifted the rod and felt a strange shake. Sure enough, I had a sucker on. It didn’t take long for me to get him in, he didn’t have much of a chance against a 13 1/2 foot 8wt Spey rod. I took a quick pic and then let him go.

Whistletrout

Shortly after that I headed in and just as I was about to climb out I spotted about 1/2 a dozen very dark Steelhead sitting on the end of a run. I immediately started casting but they showed zero interest in what I was offering.

Story of my life.

After about 30 minutes I gave up. I saw another fish caught by a pinner as I was walking out. A dark male that hardly fought. I took that as a sign that the fish didn’t care either. I just chalked it up as another learning experience. Four trips here and still no steelhead. One of these days I will time it right and actually catch one. Until then there is always Alaska. As a matter of fact, 2 months from today will be the last day of my week long trip. Better days are ahead.

Friday, Dec. 1st. The start of a 3 day smack down on the local Steelhead population. At least I was hoping it would be. I honestly had no idea how this trip was going to turn out. I had some people telling me that the rivers were full of fish, big fish. Other were telling me the exact opposite. I didn’t know who to believe. All I knew was that I was out of work early and headed north west to Wellston, MI and D-Loop Outfitters. I singed up for this trip back in June with Schultz’s Outfiiters who would be the host for the event. Normally I take my time during these drives but dinner was at 7:30 pm and Google Maps had me arriving at 7:38 pm. Just as I pulled into the driveway Schultzy was calling my cell to ask where i was at. I told him I was in my car staring at him talking to me. After introductions we sat down for a dinner of lamb chops.

I expected to lose weight after 3 days of fishing but based on this first meal I had a feeling I was going to gain weight (turns out it would only be a pound). After dinner we were paired up and assigned a guide for the next morning. So after talking with a few people and drinking a very bitter craft beer I was off to my cabin and bed.

Day 1, The Pere Marquette.

After Breakfast Robert (my fishing partner for today) and I were headed south to the PM to meet up with our guide, Brad Turner, from the Tommy Lynch Fish Whisperer Guide Service. After a brief discussion of what the plan was going to be for the day we piled into Brad’s truck and headed to the launch site. Brad launched his drift boat and after about a 15 minute row downstream we were stopped at our first run for the day. We were using indicator rigs with a couple of beads pegged a couple of inches above each hook. The rationale here is that the steelhead will grab the bead thinking it is a salmon egg. Once I set the hook it should catch him in the corner of the mouth. This was going to be the plan of attack for the whole day. Fish a run, get back in the boat, row to the next run, repeat. At our first stop Brad got me all set up and I went to work. It didn’t take long and I had the first fish of the day on. It made a few big jumps in the beginning and I could tell it was a decent sized and nicely colored male. After his third jump he hauled ass upstream and I just let him run. I was free and clear of any log jams that way and it would be the perfect area to land him. He must have realized that himself because he turned around and ran back to where I hooked him. Once he was in there he got tangled up in some old fishing line that was wrapped around a log. What started off as a very promising beginning ended with disappointment. After a few minutes I was rigged back up and at again. Just as Brad was telling us it was time to move on I hooked into another fish. The fight didn’t last long.

My smallest steelhead to date. I need to reverse this trend.

These two fish would turn out to be the only ones we would hook all day. Most of the day was spent trying to dodge other boats and stay ahead of them so we could fish clean holes that hadn’t been disturbed. I expected it to be busy on a Saturday but this was nuts. It wasn’t until about 2 o’clock that we were finally able to get ahead of the pack. Not that it made any difference but at least it kept our hopes up. It’s hard to remain positive about fishing a run or hole if you know someone else has already been through it. Fishing was tough enough already, playing second or third fiddle to everyone else just made it worse. We kept at it until just before sundown which was about the time we arrived at our take out. It was a long day but still a good one. I would have liked to have landed that first fish but I wasn’t going to keep it anyways so it wasn’t too heartbreaking. If you believe that I got a bridge over some swamp land to sell you.

Hopefully Day 2 will be better.

Day 2, The Big Manistee

Day 2 started off at a bone chilling 23 degrees. This wasn’t going to last long but for the first few hours I was going to appreciate the heated cabin on the boat we would be using. Our guide picked Robert and I up at our cabin and by 8:00 am we were at the launch and ready to go.

A Beautiful but cold morning on the Big Man

The name of the game today was floating beads under a float using a center pin rig. I had never done this before but I was curious to find out how it worked. Center pins are becoming more and more popular with the Steelheaders and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. After some quick instructions from our guide we were drifting our beads to the fish. Basically what we would do is anchor the boat upstream of the run or hole and just let the float drift downstream. This is where the reel comes in. There is no drag or “clicker” on the reel, it just free spools as the float drifts down. These reels are so smooth that it just spins without causing any drag on the float, thus allowing for as natural a drift as possible. No mending lines. No repeated casts. Just let it drift. The draw back is that when you have to set the hook you have to remember to clamp down on the reel with your hand, otherwise you will create a bird’s nest that no self-respecting Robin would want to deal with. Fortunately for me I never did that, can’t say the same for Robert. After about half an hour I was getting the hang of it and getting into a groove, interrupted only by short breaks to clear the ice out of the guides every 15 minutes or so. Not much happened at the first hole, it was more of a practice stop anyways. The next stop was different. By now the sun was up above the tree line and the temps got above freezing. No more clearing guides. Once we started drifting our floats they were getting bumped and played with by the fish. The float would drop, we would set the hook and nothing would happen. This went on for about 15 minutes but the guide told us to keep at it. Sometimes the fish feel like playing or it is a skipper screwing around. Turns out he was right on both counts. On one of the numerous bumps Robert set the hook and this time the fish was on. I reeled in and got out of the way to give them plenty of room. This would turn out to be a very cooperative fish. Instead of running towards the wood he stayed out in the middle of the river. After about 10 minutes of this he was in the net. A quick pic and he was on his way.

Rob’s 75th Birthday Fish

Now it was my turn. While Robert was getting set back up again I went back to fishing. On my next drift my float dropped and I buried the hook into what appeared to be a good fish. I’ll never know for sure, 10 seconds later he was off.

FRAK!!!

I reeled in, reset everything and got back at it. A couple drifts later my float dropped and once again I clamped down on the reel and set the hook. I hooked the fish but the weight wasn’t there like the previous one. Once again the Skipper curse reared its minuscule head. A minute later he was in the net and quickly released to fight another day. I’m going to start telling everyone that I am dealing in Steelhead Futures, catch them small and let them grow later.

My Big Manistee Brute

Once we were done drifting floats through this hole our Guide broke out the Spey rods so we could swing flies through this big run. This is what I wanted to do all weekend so I was tickled pink to finally get the chance. He set me up on the back of the boat and just let me cast away. Meanwhile, he set Robert up at the front of the boat and gave him a refresher course on casting. I had never been on a boat where you had two spey casters fishing at the same time. I will never do it again. I had the whole back of the boat all to myself so I really didn’t have to worry about anything. The guy up front had to time his casts to make sure he didn’t hit my line or me. While Robert never did hit my line (I was timing my casts to help prevent that) he did manage to hit just about everything else, including me. After the third time he bounced his fly off of my hat the guide finally said that’s enough and we went back to the center pins. I was lucky that I never got a hooked buried in me and I preferred to keep it that way, even if it meant fishing a method I really didn’t want to.

We continued on for the rest of the day with the only excitement being Rob hooking into another fish for a few brief seconds. The clear blue skies created a lot of glare and trying to watch a float through that was proving to be difficult and giving me a headache. Around 3:30 pm we pulled lines and headed back to the dock. We didn’t want to be late for dinner, steak and lobster tonight.

Day 3, The Little Manistee

This was the forecast for day 3. I was supposed to spend it on the Big Manistee again with Robert but the guide couldn’t make it so another guide was assigned to us. Personally I think the guide didn’t want to get rained on all day. Because of this there was some reshuffling of where we would fish. One of the other guests wanted to hike and wade the Little Manistee and his partner wanted to fish the PM. That meant that Robert and I would be splitting up to fish one of the alternatives. He chose to fish the PM and I was happily relegated to the Little Manistee. It was already raining so I gathered all my rain gear and piled into the guide’s 4-Runner. After about a 30 minute drive we arrived at our first stop of the day. We would be fishing Indicator rigs again but John (Our Guide) did bring along a switch rod for swinging flies, just in case.

The Little Manistee and all its log jam, fish losing potential.

We set up on the first run and started drifting egg flies through the run. This part of the river wasn’t very wide and we were literally casting just 10 feet in front of us. John, the other fisherman, was downstream of me by about 20 yards. Our guide was standing next to me answering my questions when I happened to see John set the hook on a fish. He never said a word so I pointed downstream and said “fish”. About that time the Fish made one of 3 straight up in the air jumps, headed downstream, turned and swam back upstream to the hole and then reversed course and hauled ass downstream. John and John gave chase while I just continued to fish my spot. I kept an eye on them in case they needed help but there really wasn’t much I could do. They had their hands full in the skinny water and they really didn’t need me to get in the way. About 15 minutes later they were both walking upstream, John 2 was all smiles so I assumed they landed the fish. John 1 later informed me that they did not. He told me that it was about a 10 pound male and it got hung up on a tree stump and broke the line just as he was about to net it. It was the first big Steelhead that John 2 had ever hooked into and he was all wound up now. Thus the reason for him being all smiles. We fished the spot for a few more minutes but nothing happened so we moved on to the next run.

At spot number two John 2 and I were a little more separated so our guide had to split his time a little more carefully. He got John 2 set up first and then we walked a little further upstream. He told me where to fish and I made a few casts. Once he was comfortable with my presentation he headed back down to check on John 2. Just as he rounded the bend I hooked a fish. He started to run back but I told him to take it easy. This one wasn’t going anywhere. Skippers usually don’t.

It was still a fish and as it would turn out I would be the only one from the group that would catch a Steelhead each day. I also got to claim the prize for the smallest fish each day. It takes real skill to be able to do that. We fished this area of the river for the next hour or so but to no avail. I even got to swing a streamer through a run that held both Coho and Steelhead but they didn’t want to play. The fish were there, we could see them in the runs (some well over 10 pounds) but they didn’t want to cooperate so we headed back to the car and lunch. By now the rain had stopped which made for a pleasant dining experience of a turkey sandwich and vegetable soup. Once that was done we packed up and headed out.

Our next stop was a section of the river about 3 miles from where we first started. This stretch was full of spawning Cohos. There was a great run of these fish this year and many were still holding over. John 1 mentioned to me that some of them will be here until January and fresh ones will probably move in with the latest rain. I was surprised to see so many and I was hoping there would be plenty of Steelhead feeding on the eggs. John 2 was set up on the first hole and he immediately hooked in to a Coho. It didn’t last long and he got hung up. John 1 decided to just turn me loose. He gave me a box of egg patterns and some leader material. He asked if I was ok with that and I assured him I was fine and headed upstream. He told me he would check on me in about 30 minutes or so. I started methodically working the runs, hoping to find one cooperative Steelhead while all the Cohos swam around me. As I was making my last drift on one run I saw a nasty looking Coho swimming my way and into the run. Of course she grabbed the egg. I didn’t set the hook, hoping she would spit it but she didn’t. She turned and buried the hook in her jaw. I managed to work her out of the hole and into the skinny water downstream. Once I did that I yelled out to John 1 and he came up to assist. He saw the fish and the look of disgust on my face so he just grabbed the line and gave it a good yank to pull it free. We joked about it for a second and said we should move up to the next run. John 2 had hooked into about 4 or 5 Coho by now so I asked John 1 if he really thought he would be able to get him to leave. He gave me that “yeah your right” look so I just went off on my own again.

At the next run I managed to hook a few more Coho but I really didn’t try to land them. They were looking quite nasty and I didn’t want to grab them. Eventually I moved on to another hole and started fishing again. About this time John 1 had made his way back up to check on me and it was then that I hooked another Steelhead. Only problem was that it was another smolt no more than 8 or 9 inches long. I got her close and removed the hook without ever taking her out of the water. A few minutes later I followed that up with a couple of small Brown Trout. John 1 told me there was a good wild population here but that the ones he catches are usually in the 15 to 20 inch range. Leave it to me to break the trend.

Small but very colorful

John 1 told me we only had about another 20 minutes so I started to work my way back down. I made a few more casts but once I broke my line on a sunken log I just packed everything up for the day. John 2 was still playing with the Cohos so I just sat back and watched. If these had been fresh fish I would have joined in but I wasn’t feeling the need to catch zombies. It had been a long 3 days and I was starting to feel it. A hot shower and sleeping in my own bed was sounding really good right about now. I just had to get through the 3 1/2 hour drive first. Still, I caught fish, there wasn’t any size to them but it was better than nothing. I had the chance to land some bigger ones but it really didn’t happen. I ate well and didn’t get hurt so I really can’t complain. I’m sure I’ll do it again next year. I just may fit in a few trips beforehand on my own.

This past Friday evening started off pretty much the same as the prior one. I was back walleye fishing in my usual spot at 9:30 pm. Conditions were pretty good, partly cloudy skies with a slight NW breeze. Boat traffic was a little higher than normal and in about 30 minutes I was about to find out why. No matter though, I got set up and started my usual routine for night fishing when the other fish are in. About 5 minutes in I had my first fish on and it turned out to be a 23 inch male walleye. That was soon followed up by a second 21 inch male. I was beginning to think that maybe the other fish had left. That things would get back to normal. That I wouldn’t have to constantly be pulling lines in to remove unwanted accidental catches. I was wrong.

1,2,3,5,6,7,8,9,11,12,13,14,15,16…..

Around 10 pm I sensed a flash of light behind me and then a resounding boom. Grosse Isle was shooting off fireworks, thus the reason for the increased boat traffic. Shortly after the start of the show I picked up a third walleye and it would turn out to be my last one for the night. Once the show was over all the boats headed for the docks and after that it was nothing but the other fish for the next few hours. My last fish of the night turned out to be a white perch that had a brush with a muskie. When I flipped it in the boat it had teeth marks across both sides. Lucky little bugger.

Hope I never lose that Blue & White PP. It’s the only one I have.

Saturday, June 3rd, 2017

Chores. I did find another Blue & White Pencil Plug while I was cleaning out the garage. Day wasn’t a total waste of time after all.

Sunday, June 4th, 2017

Sunday started off with me attending Demo Days at Schultz’s Outfitter’s. This is an annual event full of fly fishing, tying classes and demonstrations. I signed up for the Micro Spey – Trout and Smallmouth class presented by Tom Larimer. When spey fishing first arrived in Michigan it was all about Steelhead. Lately though there has been an interest in scaling things down for the resident Brown & Rainbow Trout and Smallmouth bass. Tom has been heavily involved with this, working with both G. Loomis in developing fly rods specifically for this and lines from Airflo to go with them. Since I enjoy spey casting so much I wanted to learn how to incorporate what I have learned so far into catching the aforementioned species. Class started off indoors at first with discussion about presentation, reading water and fly selection. After that we wadered up and were standing in the water casting. Tom brought along two prototype rods from G. Loomis and worked with each of us on our spey casting. I like to think that I am getting better but after watching Tom I quickly realized I have a long way to go. He did point out a couple of small items that I need to work on. A couple of the finer points of setting “the anchor” that when done properly make a huge difference. When I don’t do it things get ugly. Just like anything else that is new I need to practice more. I figure I’ll go down to the river a few times a week with my spey and switch rods and do just that.

Later that evening I grabbed my 5wt fly rod and headed to Washago Pond in Willow Metropark to play around with the bluegills. Susan and I used to go to the park about once a month in the Spring and Summer. She would read and take pictures while I fished. Afterwards we would drive around and look at the deer or whatever other critter might be out and about. Now it’s just me and the fish. When I arrived around 8:00 pm it was dead calm and no sign of any surface activity. Usually the swallows are skimming the surface trying to pick off newly hatched bugs, not tonight. Undeterred from the lack activity I walked over to the edge of the pond, tied on a #14 Elk Hair Caddis dry fly and went at it. The fly wasn’t on the surface for a second when the first bull gill smacked it. About a minute later he was in hand.

The first of about 2 dozen.

This continued on for the next hour. Every other cast resulted in another nice gill. Eventually my dry fly started to turn into an emerger/sub surface fly and then a slow sinking fly. I could of changed flies but it was still working so I didn’t bother. The last few caught were strip sets. I would see a subtle swirl where I thought my fly was and once I gave a tug I could feel the weight. I must admit though, I tied that fly right. It never fell apart, even after being almost swallowed by most of the fish. Around 9:00 pm fishing started to slow down so after one more fish I packed it up and went home. My elbows and wrists were getting sore from all the fly casting today anyways. I can always come back.

In the immortal words of Porky Pig….”That’s All Folks“.

Afterwards I drove around the park to watch the deer, just like Susan and I used to do. There were about a dozen of them out, most with their summer cinnamon tan already. No fawns yet, they are probably hunkered down somewhere safe from the resident coyotes.

As I was watching the Spey Daze DVD this past weekend, this question was posed to the guest fishermen.

Using one word, describe Steelhead.

Frustrating was the word I came up with. I don’t think it is for the fish itself but what I have to go through to catch one. Steelhead are migratory so if they don’t run the river there isn’t much I can do. This season, for one reason or another, they never really showed up on my home waters. I suppose I needed to be served a piece of humble pie. The first season of swinging flies I landed 6 on the Huron, my personal best fish, for the Huron, coming on Jan. 2nd. Since then it’s been nothing. Because of the lack of fish and a desire to try new places I have ventured out. Earlier this week I had some estate business to handle for Susan in Toledo and Fremont so I decided to keep heading east and try the Vermillion river.

A little back story on the Vermillion. This past summer Susan was helping out with a system changeover at a local hospital. I came with her the first weekend to keep her company and to scout out fishing access. While I was at one of the parks Susan texted me to see what I was up to. I sent her a picture of the sign and she replied saying she knows that park and she used to eat her lunch their when she was a Schwann driver.

????

This was my response:

Excuse me? You know this area? You used to stop here? An area that gets a Steelhead run and you never thought to mention that to me? This is information that should have been made available to me day one, at the restaurant, after introductions. You know….Hello, my name is Susan, I know of a place to catch Steelhead on the Vermillion River.

She answered me with her usual Susan fanfare and I know she was smiling and laughing the whole time. Her coworkers probably thought I was an ass though but she knew better. It reminds me of just how close we were to each other before we ever even met.

This day though was my first attempt fishing here and I was not alone. There were about a dozen other people fishing the same low dirty water. I tried for about an hour and didn’t catch anything. From what I could see no one else was either. What amazed me was how I thought 12 other people was crowded. My first introduction to river steelhead fishing was elbow to elbow people on the Manistee River at Tippy Dam. That was insane but then it was the norm. I fished the runs I could but not the deeper, longer one farther upstream I wanted to. That one was staked out by about 6 or 7 other fishermen and they weren’t budging. Oh well, there will be other opportunities. Now that we have some warmer weather and more rain maybe the Steelhead will finally show up on the Huron. If not, I will be making a weekend trip up north.